


Dedicated Followers of Fashion

by Pink_Tinted_Monocle



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Clothing Kink, M/M, fabric kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Tinted_Monocle/pseuds/Pink_Tinted_Monocle
Summary: Daniel raised an eyebrow.  “That jacket is certainly something.  Where did you even get that?”Johnny shrugged.  “Can’t remember.  Had it since the nineties.”“Oh yeah?  Thought you didn’t own any clothes bought after 1989?”When Johnny wears his sleeveless denim jacket to sparring practice, long buried feelings begin to emerge between him and Daniel.  As they try to deal with their emotions, a few iconic outfits from their past make a reappearance.Set post season 3, so beware spoilers if you haven’t finished it yet.
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 47
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

** 1992 **

“John Lawrence, here for the modelling gig.”

The receptionist looked at Johnny over the top of her wire rimmed glasses, pursing her lips in disapproval.

“You’re late.”

“Yeah, I know. I ran outta juice half a mile from the nearest gas station and me and my friend Bobby had to push my Firebird – ”

“Just sign here”, said the woman, pushing a clipboard towards Johnny. “Then take a left down there to get to costume and make-up.”

She pointed towards a corridor with a blood red nail and Johnny squiggled his signature then set off, walking briskly. He knocked on the door and it was quickly opened by a harassed looking man in a brightly patterned shirt.

“Are you the model? You’re very late you know, we were expecting you almost an hour ago.”

“Yeah, I know”, said Johnny. “But my car -”

“I don’t care, just get in here”, said the man, dragging Johnny into the room and starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Right, we need to get your clothes off and the baby oil _on_. Miranda!”

A small woman with a measuring tape around her neck materialised out of seemingly nowhere, brandishing a bottle of oil. Together, Miranda and the man prepared Johnny for the shoot, styling his hair and oiling him up. They gave him a pair of low rise designer jeans to change into; he quickly took off his own very much not-designer jeans and pulled them on.

“Right!” said the man, clapping his hands together and surveying his handiwork. “I think you’re all good to go! Oh – apart from one thing -”

He handed Johnny a sleeveless denim jacket and Johnny shrugged it on over his bare chest before the man pushed him out of the room and Miranda led him to the set.

After the shoot, Johnny walked up to the photographer.

“Hey, look I was just wondering if there are any more jobs like this going. It’s just I could really use the money and -”

“Oh, there are plenty of jobs like this going. For people who show up on time”, said the photographer, glaring at Johnny before walking off.

Back in the dressing room, Johnny scrubbed the baby oil angrily off his chest. He tugged his own jeans and shirt back on before his eyes fell on the denim jacket, now draped over the back of a chair. He slung it over one arm and left the building, more than ready for a beer with Bobby.

** 2019 **

“Maybe our new logo could be an eagle _eating_ a snake”, suggested Johnny, picking up a pencil and beginning a crude sketch.

“Needs to have a bonsai in it”, said Daniel, not looking up from his phone.

“Alright. How about an eagle _sitting_ in a bonsai eating a snake?”

Daniel tutted. “An eagle can’t sit in a bonsai, Johnny. It’s too big, the bonsai would just topple over.”

Johnny dropped the pencil and huffed, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, well, why don’t you try and come up with some ideas, LaRusso, rather than just staring at crap on your phone? What are you looking at, anyway?”

“Your Facebook page”, Daniel answered without missing a beat. “And you’re right, it is crap. Why is there a photo of you pouting while standing in front of a mural of some angel wings?”

“Oh shit, thought I’d got rid of that one”, said Johnny, pulling a face. “Can you delete it for me while you’re there?”

Daniel sighed. “No, Johnny, I can’t delete it for you, that’s not how it works.” He was for silent for a moment, still scrolling, then smiled.

“This one of you and Miguel is nice, though. You at a concert or something?”

“Yeah, Dee Snider, the most badass rocker _ever._ ” Johnny stuck his tongue out and raised his hand to his mouth, two middle fingers held down, mimicking the pose in the photo.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “That jacket is certainly something. Where did you even get that?”

Johnny shrugged. “Can’t remember. Had it since the nineties.”

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t own any clothes bought after 1989?”

Johnny threw the pencil at Daniel across the office they had set up in Miyagi-Do. The smaller man caught it easily and scowled, but Johnny just grinned.

“Maybe I’ll wear it for you sometime, LaRusso”, he said with a wink.

“Lucky me”, Daniel muttered, looking back down at his phone.

Johnny wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the light, but it almost looked like there was a faint blush on Daniel’s cheeks.

**********************************************************************************

Johnny could tell before he even got out of bed that it was going to be a swelteringly hot day. He woke in the early hours of the morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, the sheets sticking uncomfortably to his skin. 

Eventually he got up and munched on cereal while aimlessly scrolling through Facebook on his laptop. (He had recently learnt that the box which asked him ‘What’s on your mind?’ was not a space for private thought, and that anything written in there could be seen by anyone else on Facebook. He discovered this after typing ‘How to take down Kreese and also what is cotton candy made of’ and Daniel had replied thirty seconds later with ‘You’re an idiot, Johnny’.)

As the heat continued to build Johnny took a cold shower before selecting an outfit for the day’s training. He threw on shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt and was just about to walk out of the bedroom when the denim jacket caught his eye, crumpled up on the floor of his closet.

_Maybe I’ll wear it for you sometime, LaRusso._

Johnny picked it up, and before he could change his mind he shoved it into his gym bag and headed out of his apartment.

**********************************************************************************

“Good work today everyone”, said Daniel, nodding approvingly as the students filtered out of Miyagi-Do, wiping sweat off their foreheads and glugging from water bottles.

“Yeah, getting _badass_ ”, agreed Johnny. “Barely any pussies among you now. Well, apart from maybe you.” He pointed at Demetri.

The pale boy looked offended. “Hey, what’s wrong with me? I thought I did pretty well today!”

“You did, Demetri”, Daniel said reassuringly, patting him on the back as he left and frowning at Johnny.

Johnny just smirked and glanced towards the house, thinking longingly of the ice cold Coors Banquet waiting for him in the newly installed refrigerator.

“Hey Sensei!”

Johnny turned to see Miguel standing in front of him.

“You wanna come over to mine for dinner tonight? My mom says you’re welcome to join us if you don’t have any other plans.”

“Not tonight, kid. I’m gonna stay here for a bit, work on some new moves with LaRusso. But another time, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course”, said Miguel with a smile. “See you later, Sensei.” He started to walk out of the dojo, waving goodbye to Daniel as he went before looping an arm around Sam’s shoulders.

When the kids had left, Daniel turned to Johnny.

“You hungry?”

Johnny shrugged. “I could eat.”

He followed Daniel into the house, allowing his eyes to trail down the other man’s petite form. It had been a while since Johnny had seen Daniel train in anything that wasn’t a tracksuit or a gi, but due to the temperature Daniel was dressed similarly to Johnny in shorts and a sleeveless workout top. Johnny watched as Daniel’s long legs carried him out of the yard and inside, a slight sheen of sweat glinting on the tanned skin. Johnny bit his lip and fetched his longed for beer from the refrigerator, taking a swig.

“You want a cold one, LaRusso?” he asked.

“Do you have any beer, or in fact any form of alcohol, that isn’t a Coors Banquet?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll stick with water”, Daniel said dryly. He turned around to start preparing the dinner and Johnny held up his middle finger behind his back.

As Daniel busied himself Johnny opened his gym bag, reaching inside and pulling out a towel to wipe the sweat off his brow. He paused when he saw the jacket, scrunched up in the corner of the bag along with a can of deodorant and a packet of corn nuts.

_Maybe I’ll wear it for you sometime, LaRusso._

_Lucky me._

He took it out of the bag and pulled it on, feeling the rough denim scratch against his skin, before strutting back into the yard and sitting on the deck. He sipped his beer as the early evening sun beat down, trying and failing to think of something that wasn’t Daniel LaRusso’s legs.

Daniel soon emerged from the house and strode over with two plates of food. When he caught sight of Johnny he stopped mid-stride, mouth opening and closing a few times before he settled on just shaking his head.

Johnny grinned. “What? Told you I’d wear it for you sometime, LaRusso.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that Johnny?” said Daniel, joining Johnny on the deck and handing him a plate and cutlery.

“ _I’m_ ridiculous? You’re the one who has a dojo in an ornamental garden.”

“What, as opposed to a more sensible location for teaching children karate, like a public park or a seedy strip mall with faulty wiring?”

Johnny ignored the jibe and poked at his dinner with a fork, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “A salad?” He put the bowl down. “Think I’ll go and grab a burger.”

“Really, Johnny? You want something hot in this heat?”

“Maybe I do”, Johnny replied, making eye contact with the smaller man.

This time the blush that bloomed on Daniel’s cheeks was definitely not a trick of the light.

After a moment Daniel coughed and looked away. “Come on Johnny, eat your salad. It’s good, I swear.”

Johnny pulled a face again but still speared a carrot and a lettuce leaf with his fork and popped them in his mouth, munching nosily. As green stuff went it actually wasn’t too bad. Not that he would ever tell Daniel that.

********************************************************************************** 

After dinner they discussed potential new moves they could teach their students for the tournament, Daniel diligently writing them all down while Johnny lounged on the deck, nursing another Coors Banquet. (“Why don’t you just teach them that move you used on Kreese, the one that made his arms go limp? Then we’d win no problem.” asked Johnny. Daniel had rolled his eyes. “Funnily enough, temporarily paralysing your opponent is considered an illegal move in a karate tournament for children.” “But you can at least teach _me_ , LaRusso.” “I’m not doing that, Johnny. You’d use it on anybody who annoyed you, which would mean practically everyone in the valley would have numb limbs.”)

Eventually Daniel put the pen down and stood up, offering a hand out to Johnny. 

“You wanna try putting some of these moves into action?”

Johnny nodded and clasped Daniel’s hand, letting the smaller man pull him up. As he did, Johnny let his thumb rub gently over the back of Daniel’s hand for just a moment, noting with interest the slight but noticeable hitch in Daniel’s breathing as he did so. He thought of the blush from earlier, the way the pink tinge had spread prettily across Daniel’s olive skin, and swallowed thickly. The sensible thing would be to ignore these feelings, to push them back into the distant corner of his mind where they had been dwelling for the past three decades. 

But Johnny Lawrence was not good at doing the sensible thing.

Daniel started to warm up while Johnny did a few half-hearted stretches of his own. Then they got into position in the middle of the yard.

“You gonna be able to move properly in that, Johnny?” asked Daniel, eyes flicking up and down Johnny’s denim clad torso.

“I can move in anything, LaRusso. Don’t think you’ve got an advantage over me just because you’re wearing some fancy-ass designer workout gear and $300 sneakers.”

“Whatever, Johnny. You wanna start with the new set of kicks?”

They trained for about forty minutes, moving from the kicks to a new punching technique and then into some blocks (“Can’t we just keep punching?” Johnny had asked. “’Cause you know, the best type of defence is just more offence.” Daniel raised an eyebrow. “That’s the winning attitude that got us into this mess to begin with. Come on Johnny, let’s just try it my way, OK?”) 

The sun was low in the sky but it was still baking hot, and Johnny could feel the sweat running down his chest, exacerbated by the heavyweight denim. It was worth it though. Johnny hadn’t really planned what would happen once he’d put the jacket on, but the first time Daniel’s bare skin had come into contact with the fabric he had let out a breathy little gasp. Johnny had then deliberately started to make sure his jacket touched Daniel whenever possible, and by the time they had worked through most of the new moves Daniel was looking dishevelled, hair unruly and falling into his eyes, skin slick with sweat, breath ragged. He lashed out with a front kick and Johnny blocked as planned, but rather than backing off he spun Daniel around and pulled him into an embrace so the smaller man’s back was flush against his chest before dragging his jacket slowly over Daniel’s damp skin. Daniel shuddered and let out a small whimper. He went to move away but Johnny grabbed his wrist and pulled him back in so that they were face to face. Johnny let go of Daniel’s wrist, moving his hand instead to the other man’s waist, letting his fingers rub over the slight swell of softness at Daniel’s middle. 

“Johnny”, Daniel breathed, voice breaking, eyes wide, leaning in just ever so slightly.

Johnny gulped. This was dangerous territory; flirting was one thing, but they were now on the verge of something else entirely. An image of Carmen and Miguel flashed into his mind, happily chatting away at their family meal, and he felt a sudden rush of guilt. Daniel was still staring at him with those big doe eyes, and he suspected that if he went in for a kiss the smaller man wouldn’t resist him.

Instead he stepped back, arms dropping to his sides, almost tripping over a rock as he put some distance between him and Daniel (who designs a dojo with freaking great lumps of stone in it, anyway? And Daniel had the nerve to criticise him for being unsafe).

“Uh”, he said, throat dry, voice coming out low and scratchy. “That was good. I mean, good – uh – session. With the new moves.”

Daniel just stared at him for a moment before he seemed to come to his senses.

“Uh, yeah”, he said, clearing his throat. “Good, uh, good work Johnny.”

“Uh, yeah. You too”, said Johnny, gesturing vaguely in Daniel’s direction. They were both silent for a second and then they both spoke at once.

“It’s getting late, I should –”

“So I need to get back –”

They smiled tightly at each other.

“See you tomorrow, LaRusso”, Johnny said awkwardly.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

Johnny fetched his stuff from the house and left by the front door, slinging his bag into the back seat of his car. He pulled out of the driveway, glancing for a second in the rear view mirror. Daniel stood in the doorway, watching him, an unreadable expression on his face.

At home, Johnny peeled off the denim jacket and threw it back into the closet. He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and drank it in one before cracking open another and sitting down in front of the TV. He let a mindless action film wash over him until he felt his eyelids start to droop and he drifted off on the couch to dreams of long legs and big eyes and a soft New Jersey accent that just whispered _Johnny, Johnny, Johnny_ over and over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I found that shirt”, Daniel said, feigning casualness.
> 
> “What shirt?” asked Johnny, plonking himself down in his own chair.
> 
> “The pink one”, Daniel replied. He stood up slowly, bracing himself against the desk as the room threatened to start spinning. “The one you said – that you said – ah – from the photo album.”
> 
> When a look through an old photo album leads to Daniel unearthing a certain pink shirt, things heat up between him and Johnny when they both get drunk at the dojo.
> 
> Trigger warning: some description of one of the characters having issues accepting their sexuality.

** May 1985 **

“So I’ve gotta go into the office this morning, just for an hour or two, but I’ll be back by lunch so we can go to the mall, get you some new clothes.”

Daniel made a noise of protest around his mouthful of eggs. He swallowed and took a gulp of orange juice.

“But I’ve got plans, Ma! I was gonna go round to Mr Miyagi’s, learn some new moves, feed the fish. And the clothes I got are fine, honest.”

“Your clothes are not _fine_ , Daniel; all of your pants are about an inch too short in the leg, and look at that shirt!” said Lucille, gesturing to Daniel’s red checked plaid, “Those cuffs are supposed to come down to your wrists, not your elbows!”

Daniel slumped back in his chair, clamped a hand to his heart dramatically and groaned.

“But I don’t wanna go _shopping_ , Ma!” 

“Then quit growing”, said Lucille with a grin. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll treat you to a burger and a milkshake from that place you like. Hey, why don’t you invite Ali? I haven’t seen her around in a while. Everything OK with you two?”

“Oh yeah, we’re just peachy. But she’s – er – she’s got family stuff on this weekend”, Daniel lied.

“Alright, well it’ll just be the two of us then. It’ll be nice to have a bit of mother-son bonding time, you can fill me in on everything that’s been going on with you lately.”

“There’s nothing going on with me”, Daniel said shortly, a slight flush on his cheeks. He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Look, I better go tell Mr Miyagi I can’t make it this afternoon. I’ll see you later, Ma.” He barrelled out of the door, leaving it open.

Lucille shouted after him, exasperated. “Alright, but we’ll meet back here at 12. And don’t be late!”

**********************************************************************************

“Alright, so you need some new pants and shirts. And what about underwear, do you need new underwear?”

“ _Ma_ -”

“Well do you?”

Daniel shrugged, looking down at his feet and scuffing the floor with his shoe. “Yeah, I guess”, he muttered.

Lucille pulled his head up by the chin, looking at him with concern. “Are you OK, Daniel? You’ve been in a mood all day, didn’t even finish your milkshake. Those Cobra Kai boys aren’t giving you a hard time at school again, are they?”

“No, Ma. They’re not even in Cobra Kai anymore-”

“Then what is it, huh?”

“What it is is that my mother is stood in the middle of a store with people all around tryin’ to talk to talk to me about _underwear_.”

Lucille dropped his chin and rolled her eyes. “Alright, smartass, I’ll shut up. Come on, quicker this is over with quicker we can go home and not worry about shopping again until you hit another growth spurt.”

They walked through the store, picking out a new wardrobe. (Daniel had tried to fill the basket with nothing but camo pants and plaid shirts, but Lucille had laughed and put most of them back. “How about we try and get you a few clothes that you can wear together that actually match?” she had suggested. “Matching, matching, who cares about matching?” Daniel had protested, but had still allowed his mom to pick out a few pairs of jeans and a couple of plain shirts.)

“OK, I think that’s nearly everything we need – oh, look at that!”, exclaimed Lucille, smiling brightly as her eyes caught on something over Daniel’s shoulder. “That shirt would look so nice on you.”

She walked past Daniel and he turned to see her picking out a rose pink shirt and peering at the label. “And it’s your size too, perfect! Alright, let’s find the cashier’s desk and then get outta here-”

Daniel reached into the basket and plucked out the shirt. “I’m not wearing that, Ma. Aren’t there any other colours, like, um, blue or something?”

Lucille looked at him, brow furrowed. “Well yeah, there might be – but look, what’s wrong with this colour? It brings out your eyes-”

“But it’s _pink_ ma, and I’m – I’m not – look, I can choose my own clothes, OK!” yelled Daniel, hands curling into fists.

Several people in the store turned to stare.

Lucille took a step back, shock etched onto her features. “Hey, hey, don’t you talk to me like that, young man!” she shouted back, voice steely. “I don’t know what’s got into you lately but I don’t like it, you hear me?”

Daniel suddenly deflated, fists uncurling, shoulders dropping, and for a second he looked as if he was about to cry.

“It’s nothing”, he said, swiping at his eyes fiercely with the back of one hand. “I’m sorry Ma, really I am.” He put the shirt back in the basket. “It’s just a shirt, it’s fine, it’ll be fine. Oh hey, I think the cashier’s desk is this way-”

He lolloped off on his long legs and Lucille had to almost run to catch up with him.

**********************************************************************************

They loaded up the car with their purchases and drove home in silence, Daniel fidgeting with a loose thread on his shirt and staring out of the window. When they were nearly home, Lucille spoke.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on, Daniel”, she said softly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

 _I can’t,_ Daniel thought, _I can’t tell you this._ He looked at his mom and smiled tightly. “Yeah, I know mom, but it’s nothing. Really.”

“OK”, said Lucille. “OK”.

Daniel could see that she didn’t believe him, but mercifully she didn’t ask him any more questions.

** May 2019 **

“Oh, you’re so tiny!” laughed Carmen, taking a sip of wine as she giggled. “And that outfit! That’s certainly something…”

Amanda grinned. “Yeah, thankfully he outgrew his plaid and camo phase before we met. Not sure we would’ve got past the first date if he had shown up wearing that.”

“Hey, it was a look!” Daniel protested. “I’ll have you know I got plenty of dates in that outfit back in Jersey!”

The two women laughed, leaning against each other as they continued to study the photo album, while Johnny smirked. Daniel rolled his eyes and took another sip of wine.

It was two weeks until the tournament, and Daniel and Amanda had invited Johnny and the students round to their house for a meal to blow off a little steam after months of intense training. Amanda had also invited Carmen (“I need another person here who isn’t a teenager or a man-child, otherwise the evening will end with _me_ throwing someone through a window, never mind Kreese"), and they had all sat outside, enjoying the late evening sun and eating and laughing.

Eventually the kids had sloped off to Daniel’s home dojo to admire Hawk’s new hair colour (purple), and discuss teen drama (Daniel had gathered from the conversation over dinner that Demetri was in a relationship with a blonde girl called Yasmine despite the fact that they apparently hated each other and spent most of their time denying they had anything to do with each other. He had caught Johnny’s eye while Demetri told his story and Johnny had held his gaze for just a moment before they both quickly looked away).

The adults had then retreated to the kitchen to polish off a bottle of wine or two (or beer, in Johnny’s case), and after a while Daniel’s childhood photo albums had somehow materialised. After laughing themselves silly over the plaid/camo combo, Amanda and Carmen had continued to make their way through the album, getting to prom (“Look at that suit!” cackled Amanda), and then to Daniel’s trip to Okinawa.

“I thought the village I grew up in in Ecuador was rural, but this is something else”, said Carmen, flicking through the photos. She paused at a picture of Daniel and Mr Miyagi, standing outside Yukie’s house. “I like your shirt here, Daniel. Definitely an improvement on the plaid”.

“Oh yeah, pink is definitely your colour, LaRusso”, said Johnny, and Carmen nudged him.

“Don’t be mean, Johnny”, she said.

“I wasn’t!” protested Johnny. “I meant it!”

“Really?” Daniel asked lightly, taking another sip of wine, tone casual even though his heart was hammering in his chest. “Not like you to compliment me, Johnny.”

Johnny’s face flushed. “No, I just – I just meant it’s not completely awful. Not like most of the clothes you wore back then. Or now, to be honest.”

“How about we talk about something that isn’t my fashion sense”, said Daniel, picking up the album and closing it firmly.

“I think you mean ‘lack of fashion sense’”, said Amanda teasingly, leaning in to kiss him on the check. She stretched her neck and grimaced. “Why don’t we go and sit somewhere more comfortable?”

“Good idea!” Daniel said brightly. “You all go into the living room and I’ll grab some more drinks.”

As soon as the others were out of sight the smile slid off Daniel’s face and he leant heavily against the kitchen counter.

_“But it’s pink ma, and I’m – I’m not -”_

_“Oh yeah, pink is definitely your colour, LaRusso”_

It had been over a month since the almost-kiss and he and Johnny hadn’t talked about it. There had been a few times when Daniel had thought Johnny was on the verge of mentioning it, but he had always just opened and closed his mouth a few times before clearing his throat and starting to talk about something else entirely. Daniel, for his part, had no idea how to even approach the subject. _Hey Johnny, remember when you put on that ridiculous jacket that made your arms look amazing and then rubbed up against me and spun me round and then freaked out when I leant in to kiss you? You wanna talk about that?_

“Hey babe”, said Amanda, and Daniel started as he looked up to see her in the doorway. “Just thought I’d come and give you a hand with the drinks.” 

He looked at his wife, the woman who had stuck by him through thick and thin for the last twenty years, and felt a surge of guilt. He pushed it away and clapped his hands together. “Right, what do you and Carmen want? Another bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon?”

“Yes please”, said Amanda, picking up the glasses while Daniel fetched the bottle. “And grab another Coors from the refrigerator for Johnny.”

Daniel took out the beer and followed Amanda into the living room, plastering on a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

**********************************************************************************

A few days later Daniel told Amanda over breakfast that he wasn’t feeling so good. Amanda had taken his temperature with the back of her hand and frowned. 

“Well, it doesn’t feel like you’ve got a fever, babe, but maybe you should take a day off from the dealership.

“Thanks”, he said, smiling weakly. “I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just a twenty-four hour bug or something.”

“OK, well, just take it easy, yeah?”

“I will. I’ll just go back to bed, try and get some sleep.”

Daniel had lain in bed until he heard Amanda leave for work and the kids leave for school before he jumped up and made his way to the storage room at the back of the house. It was packed full since he had moved everything out of the dojo and into this one room, and he spent a good half hour clambering over old chairs, kids’ toys and pool noodles before he found the two cardboard boxes he was looking for, tucked away in a dusty corner.

Both boxes had ‘1985’ scrawled on the side in black sharpie, and Daniel picked them up in turn before pushing the lighter box back into its corner. He knew what he’d find there – a white gi with a faded black snake on the back and blood stains on the sleeves – and he wasn’t quite ready to deal with that one yet. He would have to, one day, but currently there were more pressing demons he had to face.

He opened the heavier box and started to pull out piles of clothes. He had kept almost every bit of clothing from his first trip to Okinawa, folded up neatly and all stored away together, every piece infused with a memory he never wanted to forget. He smiled fondly as he took out the jeans, red shirt and black vest that he wore down at the docks with Mr Miyagi when they practised the drum technique, followed by his red silk kimono with the black and yellow embroidered bonsai trees, thinking of the O-ben festival and the fight with Chozen. Eventually he found the rose pink shirt and held it up, shaking it out.

It was paler than when he’d first worn it, bleached by the sun. There were a few loose threads but overall it was still in fairly good shape. He stared at it as the memories came flooding back. There were the good ones; mooching through Tomi village with Mr Miyagi and waving to Kumiko as the little girls giggled shrilly, and then there were the bad; the department store, the feeling of panic that had welled up in his chest when his mom had picked it out, the irrational fear that somehow she knew the secret he had tried so hard to conceal. After a minute Daniel placed it down on the floor, then re-folded all of the other clothes and packed them away until only the pink shirt remained. He knew the sensible thing to do would’ve been to pack it up as well, push the feelings back down, but instead he left it out and put the box back into its corner without it. Then he washed, dried and ironed it and placed it in his gym bag.

**********************************************************************************

The week before the tournament Daniel and Johnny stayed late at the dojo, sitting on the deck and sorting out some last minute details while munching on burgers. (“I get to pick the food tonight”, Johnny had said, “and I don’t want any green stuff.” “You’ve got a pickle in that burger”, Daniel had pointed out. Johnny had removed the pickle and thrown it at him).

After eating they did a final assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of their students (Miguel had eventually convinced Johnny to let him fight with the blessing of Carmen, and he and Sam were placed in joint first in their rankings, with Hawk coming in a close second. “I think Demetri could stand a good chance” Daniel had said and Johnny had rolled his eyes. “A good chance at what, getting his arm broken again? I think Bert’s got a shot though; he may be small but that kid can kick”. “Oh yeah?” Daniel had grinned. “Remind you of anyone?” “No”, said Johnny), and after an hour of furious scribbling (on Daniel’s part), Johnny had stood up and stretched, his t-shirt riding up a little to expose a strip of taut stomach (Daniel had turned his head, pretending to be very interested in a rock).

“I need a drink”, Johnny declared, walking towards the house.

Daniel thought of the pink shirt in his bag. “I’ll have one too”, he called after Johnny.

A minute later Johnny emerged with two stubby brown bottles clutched in his hands. He sat back down on the deck and handed one to Daniel.

“Thought my taste in beer was beneath you, LaRusso”, said Johnny as Daniel twisted off the cap and took a gulp.

Daniel grimaced, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Yeah well, you’ve worn me down. It is disgusting though; I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

Johnny barked a laugh. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Acquired through what?”

“Through drinking nothing else for thirty years”, Johnny replied with a shrug, uncapping his own bottle and flipping the lid behind him. It landed in a bush.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re going to pick that up later, Johnny.”

“What? No, its fine, I’m sure it’s recyclable or some shit.”

“You mean _degradable_ and no, it’s not.”

Johnny just shrugged and took a long pull at his Banquet.

Daniel side-eyed Johnny as they both drank their beers, watching as Johnny swiped a strand of tousled blond hair out of his too-blue eyes before his gaze tracked lower, noting the way Johnny’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, then lower still to take in the broad shoulders, muscular arms and firm chest visible under a tightly fitted t-shirt. He looked away, feeling his cheeks redden. 

They spent another hour or so grading students and discussing tactics, during which Daniel managed to drink another three beers (those tiny bottles don’t last long) and it was almost dark in the garden when Johnny drained his own beer and rubbed his eyes.

“I should go”, Johnny said, although he didn’t move. 

“You’re _not_ driving”, Daniel said firmly, lips pursed.

“I’m barely drunk!”, Johnny protested. “I’ve only had six beers!” He waggled a finger under Daniel’s nose. “And don’t talk to me about drunk driving, LaRusso, you’ve gotten into a car with me when I’ve had way more than this. I don’t know why you suddenly care so much.”

“I _care_ because we’ve got the tournament in a week from now, and if you end up dead and the kids are too grief stricken too fight and Kreese takes over the valley it’ll be all your fault.”

“Whatever”, said Johnny, “you can just say you’d miss me, LaRusso.”

“In your dreams, Johnny”, Daniel answered, rolling his eyes.

_I do miss you, I’ve always missed you. I missed you thirty-five years ago, and I’m missing you now, even though you’re right here._

Daniel felt something brush his hand and he looked down to see Johnny’s own hand resting next to his on the deck, pinky fingers touching. He glanced up and they stared at each other for a beat before they both pulled back at the same time.

“I’ll call us both a cab”, said Daniel, clearing his throat. “You can leave your car here and I’ll pick you up tomorrow before training.” He half expected Johnny to protest, but instead the blonde just nodded. 

“Right. Well, we should go inside”, Daniel continued. “It’s getting cold out here.”

Johnny got up and Daniel followed suit, but he had only taken two steps before his feet seemed to stop working and he nearly fell off the decking. Johnny caught him, strong arms encircling his waist, chest pressed flush to Daniel’s back, and Daniel was reminded of the night a month ago; the way the denim scratched over his skin, the warmth of Johnny’s body.

“Easy, LaRusso”, Johnny murmured in his ear and Daniel shivered slightly at the sensation of Johnny’s breath on his neck. “Banquet will do that to you when you’re not used to it.”

“I’m _fine_ ”, Daniel insisted, head spinning, suddenly aware of how drunk he was, “You can let go of me.”

“You sure?”, Johnny asked, and Daniel briefly considered feigning another dizzy spell to stay in Johnny’s embrace for a little longer, before firmly shaking his head and pushing Johnny’s hands away.

“I’m good, really”, Daniel said, vaguely aware that his speech was a little slurred.

Johnny moved away and Daniel just about stayed upright, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Jesus, Johnny, how do you drink that stuff every day and still have a functioning liver?”

“You’ll get used to it, LaRusso”, said Johnny, walking into the house.

“I seriously hope I don’t”, Daniel muttered, following Johnny inside.

Johnny headed for the bathroom while Daniel stumbled over to his desk and sat down heavily. He fished his phone out of his pocket, squinting against the glare of the screen, and pulled up the number for a taxi company. Then Johnny walked back into the room and Daniel found himself placing the phone face down on the desk without making the call.

“I found that shirt”, he said, feigning casualness.

“What shirt?” asked Johnny, plonking himself down in his own chair.

“The pink one”, Daniel replied. He stood up slowly, bracing himself against the desk as the room threatened to start spinning. “The one you said – that you said – ah – from the photo album.”

Johnny frowned. “The one from the 80’s?”

Daniel licked his lips. “Yeah.”

Johnny scoffed. “Oh yeah? You gave me shit for having my old clothes and you’re still hoarding all of yours?”

“For sentimental reasons only, Johnny. I don’t _wear_ them on a regular basis.”

Johnny pointed a finger at him. “Hey, my clothes are timeless. Did it fit?”

“Did what fit?”

“ _The shirt_ ”, Johnny said, swinging his legs up onto his desk and leaning back, hands behind his head. “It probably does, you’re still as much of a shrimp as you were back then.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t try it on”, Daniel replied, and he knew he should go, call a cab and get out of there, but the cheap beer was making his tongue loose. “But I could do.”

Johnny fixed him with ice blue eyes. “You got it here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Johnny was silent for a moment as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. There was an expression on his face that Daniel struggled to read in his hazy state, half fear and half something else, as if he was trying to decide whether to run away from something or towards it.

“Go get it then”, Johnny said eventually, and Daniel just nodded and walked unsteadily into the next room to fetch it, making a detour to the bathroom on the way. He half expected Johnny to be gone by the time he got back, but the blonde was still there. Daniel stood awkwardly in the middle of the room and waved the shirt around lamely in one hand. 

“You gonna put it on?” Johnny asked.

“I will if you take your dirty shoes off my desk”, Daniel shot back.

“It’s _my_ desk!”

“Yeah, but I _bought_ it.”

Johnny grumbled but removed his feet, and Daniel unzipped his tracksuit jacket and pulled on the shirt over his workout top. He stretched out his arms, waggling his fingers and feeling a little smug in spite of himself. “Still fits!”

“Yeah, but can you _button_ it?” asked Johnny.

“Yeah, I think so. It might be a little snug with this top on underneath-”

“Then take it off”, Johnny instructed, and his voice was so direct, so commanding, that Daniel obeyed without thinking, tugging off both the shirt and his top.

 _I wonder if that’s a trick he learned from Kreese,_ Daniel mused, before he suddenly realised that he was topless in front of Johnny Lawrence who was staring at him, eyes wide. He quickly pulled the pink shirt back on and hurriedly buttoned it up. It was loose when he got it and it still mostly fitted, but he was also a beanpole with an almost concave stomach when he was sixteen, and he’s definitely filled out a little since then.

Johnny just looked at him for moment and Daniel fidgeted with the hem of the shirt, not quite able to meet Johnny’s eyes. He heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back and when he glanced up Johnny was standing, that fight or flight look on his face again. He moved forwards and Daniel followed suit, closing the gap between them until Johnny was close enough to reach out and touch Daniel’s chest, dragging his fingers down to where the buttons were a little snug around Daniel’s waist.

“It’s nice”, Johnny murmured. “It’s soft.” 

“Yeah”, Daniel whispered, leaning into Johnny’s touch. He swayed dangerously as he did so and gripped Johnny’s arm to steady himself.

“It’s different, for you”, Johnny breathed. “Not blue.”

“That”, Daniel said, prodding a finger into Johnny’s chest with his free hand, “is your fault.”

“What is?”

“The blue.”

“How can a _colour_ be my fault, LaRusso?”

But Daniel didn’t answer; he just made a noise in the back of this throat and pressed their foreheads together, feeling Johnny’s hot breath on his face as he moved just a little closer, lips almost touching-

Daniel’s phone rang shrilly, and he and Johnny sprang apart. Daniel threw himself across the room to his desk and grabbed it, breath hitching as he saw the name on the screen.

“It’s Amanda”, he said hoarsely, and glanced up at Johnny.

Johnny looked nauseous. “You should get it.”

Daniel answered the call.

“Hey babe”, said Amanda, and Daniel tried to respond but his throat was suddenly tight and he couldn’t quite form the words.

“Daniel?” asked Amanda, and there was a hint of panic in her voice. He cleared his throat and forced the words out.

“Hey. Everything OK?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. It’s pretty late; I was starting to get worried, thought Kreese might’ve decided to pay you a visit.”

“God, no, I’m fine, really. Just – just had a few beers with Johnny, lost track of time. I was just about to get us both a cab.”

“OK, well, see you soon. Love you.”

“Yeah”, said Daniel, turning away from Johnny. “Love you too.”

He hung up and immediately ordered two taxis. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of water and took a long drink from it, trying to clear the alcohol induced fuzz from his mind.

Johnny was stood against the wall opposite Daniel, pressing himself into it as if he hoped it would magically open and swallow him up. Silence hung between them, heavy and oppressive, and Daniel knew that if he didn’t say anything Johnny wouldn’t either. But he also knew that if they didn’t deal with this soon the next time they were alone with a few drinks in their system would likely end with either him or Johnny just pinning the other to the floor, and not in a way that had anything to do with karate.

“We need to talk about this”, he said softly, and Johnny’s eyes met his.

“The cabs will be here in a minute-”

“Not _now_ ”, Daniel replied. “But soon. After the tournament.” He half expected Johnny to deny there was anything to talk about, but instead the blonde just nodded.

“Yeah. After the tournament.”

Daniel looked down and realised with a jolt that he was still wearing the pink shirt. He turned away, quickly taking it off and pulling his workout clothes back on.

He had just finished changing when the glare of headlights shone through the doors. He and Johnny made their way outside and got into the two cars, exchanging a brief lingering glance before they went their separate ways.

Daniel slumped down in his seat as the car wound its way out of the driveway. He stared out of the window as the city lights flashed by and found himself thinking about that day at the mall with his mom all those years ago and a similarly awkward car ride home, looking out at the same streets and trying and failing to not think about the same thing, of blue eyes and blonde hair and strong arms that would pick him up and pull him in and never let him go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you still have yours?” Daniel asked.
> 
> Johnny blinked in confusion. “My what?”
> 
> Daniel inclined his head towards the tournament gi on the wall.
> 
> In which Daniel is not on fire, Johnny performs a heist and they finally attempt to deal with their feelings for each other with the help of two iconic outfits…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: some references to outdated and ill-informed views on homosexuality and bisexuality.

** 1981 **

“Mr Lawrence. Stay behind for a moment, will you?”

Kreese’s voice cut through the air, and although it was framed as a question Johnny knew that it was a command rather than a request.

“I’ll see you later”, Johnny murmured to Bobby, and hung back while the rest of the class shuffled out.

When they were alone Kreese surveyed him for a moment, his cool gaze sweeping Johnny from head to toe, and Johnny forced himself to stay standing straight up, head high, shoulders held back rather than turning tail. He knew that gaze, not just from Kreese but from Sid as well, knew that it almost always preceded a sneer followed by a torrent of insults carefully constructed to inflict the most pain possible.

But no insults were forthcoming; instead Kreese just nodded, once, and walked past Johnny into his office. He emerged a few seconds later, a pile of black cloth held in his arms, and crossed back over to Johnny, holding out the bundle.

“For you, Mr Lawrence”, Kreese said smoothly, and Johnny’s jaw fell open when he realised what it was.

“A tournament gi?” he whispered, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice just in case he was mistaken. “For me, Sensei?”

Kreese smiled indulgently and inclined his head down, indicating for Johnny to take the uniform.

Johnny picked it up, sucking in a deep breath as he did so. He’d just been a spectator at the All Valley tournament for the last two years, sitting in the front row and cheering his fellow Cobras on, hoping against hope that one day it would be him up there, leading Cobra Kai to victory. He ran his fingers over the patch on the front of the top, scarcely believing that he was seeing his own name (his _own_ name!) printed above the motif of a fist.

“Do you really think I’m ready, Sensei?” he asked quietly, and Kreese’s smile widened as he laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“Yes son”, said Kreese. “It’s time for you to get out there and show everyone what a true champion is made of. I have a feeling that gi is only the first of many.”

Johnny felt his chest swell with happiness as a grin spread over his face.

“I won’t let you down, Sensei”, he promised fervently. “I swear it. I’ll never, ever let you down.”

** December 20th, 1984 **

“Johnny? Johnny, are you OK sweetie?”

Johnny burrowed deeper under the bed covers, ignoring his mom. His throat was throbbing painfully and he desperately needed to pee, but he didn’t want to move from his dark cocoon. After a minute his mom stopped calling his name, and he thought she’d gone away when he heard his bedroom door open softly and feet pad across to him. He felt the bed dip as she sat down before her hand landed on his back, rubbing soft circles into it through the covers.

“Hey”, she said soothingly. “It’s OK, Johnny. I know you did your best.”

“How?” croaked Johnny, voice muffled by the blankets. “How do you know what I did when you weren’t even there?”

His mom’s hand stopped moving. “I’m so sorry I missed it sweetie, but Sid had a work dinner and I had to go-”

“You always choose him over me”, Johnny said hoarsely, shifting across the bed out of his mom’s reach.

“You know that’s not true, Johnny”, Laura said quietly.

Johnny didn’t reply, and a few seconds later he felt his mom stand up and start to walk away. He heard her footsteps pause, and then a rustling sound; the crinkle of cloth.

“Where do you want me to put this, Johnny?” she asked, and Johnny didn’t need to look to know that she was holding the gi that he’d torn off and discarded on the floor when he’d got home.

“I don’t care”, he said, curling up further under the blanket.

Laura sighed. “OK, well I’m going to keep it if that’s alright with you. I’ll put it with the others.”

Johnny was silent, and after a minute he heard his mom leave, the door closing behind her. He held his breath for a moment, making sure she wasn’t about to come back, before he let himself cry, the tears running down tracks still present on his cheeks from the night before. He didn’t care what his mom did with the gi; he never wanted to see it again.

** 2019 **

They won the tournament, Miguel delivering the winning kick against Robby in a nail-biting final, and while the kids celebrated Johnny and Daniel had hotfooted it out of the All Valley Sports Arena, desperately searching for Robby and Kreese. They eventually found them around the back of the building, Kreese having apparently learned his lesson from last time and avoiding the crowded parking lot. He had Robby in a headlock, second place trophy in pieces on the ground, and for a sickening moment Johnny felt as if time had rewound thirty-five years and it was all happening again.

They had acted as one, Johnny sweeping Kreese’s leg while Daniel delivered the kick to his face, and while Daniel had pulled a shaken and spluttering Robby out of the way Johnny had stood over his old Sensei, mouth set in a hard line.

“Now get the hell out of here and never come back”, he had growled. Before Kreese had a chance to respond Johnny had turned away, attending to Robby.

After an exhausting few weeks of sorting out the mess Kreese had left behind (“A lot of those kids he was brainwashing are going to need many years of therapy”, Daniel had said) and making sure Robby was OK (he had let Johnny and Daniel take him to hospital after the tournament, but had barely talked to either of them since, opting instead to move back in with Shannon who was fresh out of rehab), Johnny and Daniel had decided to keep their new dojo open, with them both teaching evening classes while Johnny managed most of the day sessions solo when Daniel was at the dealership. (“Just try to be nice, OK Johnny? No inappropriate nicknames.” “Define inappropriate.” “Anything you would’ve used in the 80’s.” Daniel answered drily. “Then what the hell am I supposed to call them?” Johnny protested. “Their _names_ , Johnny.”)

They had also managed to avoid being alone together for any length of time; Miguel, Sam and Hawk had begun to join them for lesson planning and nights out always included Amanda and Carmen. Johnny was starting to think that Daniel had either forgotten or decided to abandon their plan to talk about The Thing between them (Johnny had started to refer to it as The Thing in his mind, even though that also made him think of the Kurt Russell film, which was confusing at times. But he didn’t know what else to call it; what was the appropriate terminology for the overwhelming urge to kiss the face off your childhood karate rival turned reluctant co-sensei?), when he’d received a Facebook message from Daniel one night after practice.

 _Dinner. My place. Saturday night, 7.30pm. Amanda out and the kids at sleepovers. And get a damn cell phone, Johnny. I’m sick of having to wait for you to turn on your laptop before you pick up my messages._ (Johnny had rolled his eyes and responded with the middle finger emoji, followed shortly after by _yeah, whatever, see you then.)_

On Saturday night Johnny tried on the entire contents of his wardrobe, searching for just the right outfit in which to discuss what to do about The Thing. After several hours his bedroom looked like an explosion in a thrift store and he finally settled on his dark suit and yellow shirt combo, telling himself as he adjusted his tie and slicked his hair back that he was going to Daniel’s to deal with the business of The Thing between them, so what better outfit than a business suit? They would drink (there was no way Johnny was doing it sober), they would talk, they would eat, they would try and come up with a solution to their feelings which didn’t end with Johnny just pushing Daniel up against a wall and ramming his tongue down the other man’s throat.

The outfit selection had taken so long that it was well after 7.30pm by the time Johnny headed out of his apartment and drove round to the LaRusso house, but even after he arrived he still stayed in the car for a while, hands clutching the steering wheel as the Valley darkened around him.

Eventually he took a deep breath and got out, grabbing a bag from the passenger seat and locking the door before squaring his shoulders, walking purposefully up to the front door and ringing the bell. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, and when Daniel didn’t come to the door after a minute he pressed the bell again, keeping his finger held down on it for a good ten seconds before letting go. After there was still no response, Johnny started to feel a little uneasy. _What if something’s happened to him?_ Johnny had a sudden vision of Daniel trying to cook some overly complicated recipe that involved a blow torch like Johnny had seen on the Food Network and setting fire to himself. Or maybe he’d tripped over those ridiculously long legs of his and fallen down the stairs and was lying in a crumpled, broken heap at the bottom. Or what if Kreese had returned despite his promise to stay away and had finally gotten his revenge? Johnny’s heart started to race as he thought about what it would be like to live in world without Daniel LaRusso. He felt bile rise in his throat and he swallowed it down as he found his feet carrying him swiftly around to the rear of the house. He was making for the back door (rapidly formulating a break-in plan in his mind, which largely consisted of just kicking the door until it opened) when he saw that there was a light on in Daniel’s home dojo; he hurried in, shoes squeaking on the floor, half expecting to see Daniel’s lifeless body spread out in front of him.

“Johnny?” asked a familiar Jersey-accented voice, and Johnny turned to see Daniel sitting on a bench pushed up against a Japanese style screen, a wine glass raised halfway to his lips. “Are you OK?”

Johnny breathed a huge sigh of relief, and then felt like an idiot. His cheeks reddened. “What? Er, yeah, I’m fine. I just thought you might be on fire or something but you’re not, so we’re all good.”

Daniel frowned. “Johnny, why the hell would I be on fire - ” he started, before he cut himself off and shook his head. “You know what? I don’t want to know. He shuffled along the bench, making room for Johnny, and gestured to a bottle of wine. “You want a drink?” 

“I’m good”, said Johnny, holding up his bag as he sat down and pulling out a crate of Coors Banquet.

Daniel rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, instead reaching out for the bottle of wine and topping up his glass. Johnny stared at him; he was dressed in corduroy pants and a fleecy blue sweatshirt, hair product-free and sticking up in fluffy tufts as if he’d been running his hands through it. Johnny tore his eyes away, feeling a little hot. He shrugged off his suit jacket and undid his top button, pulling at his collar. He took a bottle of Coors of out its cardboard container and twisted the cap off, taking a big gulp of beer.

“You missed dinner”, Daniel said.

“What was it?”

“Pesto and arugula linguine.”

Johnny pulled a face. “Sounds green.”

Daniel huffed, although Johnny thought he saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Yeah, well. I did”, Johnny said. He was just close enough to Daniel that he could smell the smaller man’s aftershave (clean and fresh with just the slightest hint of musk). He took another swig of beer.

“Yeah”, said Daniel, leaning in ever so slightly. “For some reason you’re dressed like a detective from the 1970’s and you were over an hour late, but yeah, you came.”

Johnny reached out and shoved Daniel’s shoulder playfully, but rather than pulling back he left his hand there, fingers gently stroking Daniel’s arm through the soft fabric. Daniel bit his lip and Johnny realised he was about five seconds away from giving into temptation and kissing Daniel until his own lips were too sore to form coherent sentences. He let his arm drop and glanced away, shifting on the bench to put a little more space between them, looking around the room for a distraction. His eyes settled on the framed gi hanging on the wall.

“Of course you framed it. Bet you look at it every day and get a little thrill thinking about how you beat me.”

“Actually the reason I framed it was because Mr Miyagi gave it to me for my birthday”, Daniel replied. “The bonsai was embroidered by his wife before she died.”

“Oh”, Johnny said awkwardly, but then Daniel’s mouth quirked up in a smirk.

“But yeah, it does also remind me of kicking you in the face.”

Johnny picked up his discarded bottle cap and threw it at the smaller man. It landed softly in Daniel’s hair and he scowled, plucking it out and throwing it back at Johnny who caught it easily.

“Asshole.”

“Twerp.”

They drank in silence for a minute before Johnny finally asked the question that had been bugging him for weeks.

“Why is blue my fault?”

Daniel didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard Johnny, instead fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of his fleece. He drained his glass and then picked up the bottle to re-fill, and Johnny was about to repeat the question when Daniel finally spoke. 

“I- I liked you in high school.”

Johnny snorted in derision. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

Daniel sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, I mean I _liked_ you in high school, Johnny.”

It took Johnny a moment to realise when Daniel meant; when he did, he blinked in surprise. “Oh. Shit.”

Daniel swirled the wine around in his glass. “Yeah. After the tournament I started having these dreams about you, and when I saw you at school…”. He paused, taking a sip of wine and staring down at the floor. “There wasn’t any information about it in those days, you know? About men who liked men or men who liked both men and women. Not useful information, anyway. The news just said it made you sick, and my neighbour Freddy told me he’d once seen an Al Pacino movie about it and that it meant you had to wear a lot of leather and might be murdered.” He took a big gulp of wine and stared down at his feet, not meeting Johnny’s eye, and when he spoke again his voice was somehow both soft and brittle. 

“So I just tried to ignore it and hoped that it would go away, but of course it didn’t. So the next time I needed new clothes I just bought everything in blue, because – I don’t know, it just seemed like a safe colour. Like people were less likely to know…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Oh”, Johnny said again. (He felt that he should probably have said something else, but had no clue what that would be.) “And then what?”

Daniel shrugged. “And then, eventually, there was more information and I learned that it was OK to like both men and women, but by that time I was already with Amanda and I didn’t want anyone else.” He went to take another sip of his wine but then seemed to change his mind, placing the glass down on the bench and running a hand through his hair. 

Johnny realised his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it.

“And what about you, Johnny?”

“What about me, LaRusso?”

“Did – did you like me too? Back then?”

Johnny had a sudden, vivid memory of the day they first met, of looking down at Daniel playing with Ali on the beach and feeling an odd swooping sensation in his stomach at the sight of long legs and slim hips that he hadn’t fully understood and had masked with anger.

“Maybe”. He went to take a pull on his Banquet, but the bottle was empty. He cracked open another and took a long swig from it.

“We would be terrible together”, Daniel said bluntly. “We’d argue over everything and we’d probably try and kill each other within a week.”

“Yeah”, Johnny agreed. “It’d be a fucking nightmare.”

“And yet –”, said Daniel, gesturing at the space between them, at the thirty-five year old heart-shaped elephant in the room. “-there’s this”. 

“Yeah. The Thing. Our thing, I mean, nothing to do with Kurt Russell.” Johnny looked down at his feet. “I don’t know what to do about it, LaRusso.”

“No”, Daniel said miserably. “I don’t either.”

They looked at each other, and Johnny was suddenly overcome with the urge to just get up and run out of there at full pelt (he could be in his car and on his way home in under a minute if he moved fast). He hadn’t expected it to go this way; he thought that Daniel would have some carefully constructed five-point plan for how to deal with their feelings, or that he’d get some sudden flash of inspiration (damn business suit had been no help at all). Instead he breathed deeply in and out and shifted just a little closer to Daniel, holding out a hand. Daniel hesitated for a fraction of a second before he took it in his.

“Do you still have yours?” Daniel asked after a while.

Johnny blinked in confusion. “My what?”

Daniel inclined his head towards the tournament gi on the wall.

“Oh. No. But it might still be at Sid’s with some of my mom’s old stuff.”

Daniel nodded slowly. “You think you could go round there and see if you can find it?”

“Maybe”, said Johnny, frowning. “Why?”

**********************************************************************************

Johnny loitered outside the house, watching as Sid clambered into his car with the help of Rhonda. The chauffeur got in and started the engine and Johnny ducked behind a bush as the car swooped down the driveway. When it was safely out of sight he walked briskly up to the front door and rang the bell (he knew better than to try and sneak round the back; Sid’s home security systems had always been state of the art and he’d tripped the alarm more than once as a teenager, creeping back home after an all-night rager).

When the butler answered the door Johnny walked straight past him, talking fast.

“Hey, is my step-dad home? It’s just that I think I left something here last time I visited and I wanted to see if he’d found it.”

The butler hurried behind Johnny as he walked into Sid’s study. “Mr Weinberg is out at the moment, Mr Lawrence, but perhaps if you come back another day after you’ve made an appointment-”

“Ah, it’s OK, I think I know where I left it”, said Johnny. “I’ll go grab it and be out of your hair in just a sec.” He looked at the butler again. “Well, actually, you don’t have any hair, but you know what I mean.”

“Mr Lawrence, I must protest-” began the butler, but Johnny stepped around him and back out into the hall before turning left and taking the stairs two at a time. He ran along the corridor to his old bedroom (now a storage room) and began to search for the boxes with his mom’s name on them. He could already hear the butler talking to someone on the phone and he reckoned he had about three minutes before the burly security guards that Sid kept on site found him, and a further two minutes before Sid arrived back home (Johnny knew that he would order his chauffeur to turn right back around as soon as the butler told him what was going on; his step-father would never miss an opportunity to kick Johnny out of his house).

After a minute of searching Johnny found the boxes marked ‘Laura’ and tore them open, pulling out high heels and floral dresses, some of which still smelt faintly of his mom’s perfume. His stomach clenched at the scent, memories flooding back; he shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He opened another box, and then another, and was just starting to think they weren’t there, that Sid must have thrown them out, when he found them folded up neatly at the bottom of the last box. Four black gi’s with yellow trim. He pulled them all out and held them up one by one to determine which was the biggest, which was the one from 1984. When he’d identified it he quickly stuffed the pants, top and a belt into the backpack slung over his shoulder and sprinted back down the corridor and the stairs. As he barrelled out of the door he heard heavy footsteps behind him and several deep voices shouting at him to stop, but he kept running, breath hitching in his chest.

Sid’s car pulled back into the driveway as Johnny ran out of it, and as Johnny raced down the road, the security guards puffing along behind him for a few paces before giving up, he heard Sid shout.

“And don’t you ever come back here, you good-for-nothing schmuck!”

 _Don’t worry,_ Johnny thought, slowing his pace a little as he turned a corner out of sight. _I won’t._

**********************************************************************************

“Good work today everyone!”, said Sam, clapping her hands together, and Johnny smirked as Daniel raised an eyebrow at his daughter as their students began to talk amongst themselves.

“You know that’s my line, right?” Daniel asked.

Sam grinned. “You snooze you lose, Dad. Maybe it’s time for you to start thinking about stepping back a bit, let the new guard take the lead.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Plenty of life left in this not-so-old dog yet.”

“So what’s the plan for tonight, Sensei and Mr LaRusso?” piped up Miguel, taking a slug of water from his bottle and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “More lesson planning?”

Johnny and Daniel exchanged a glance.

“Ah, no, not tonight kid”, said Johnny. “Me and LaRusso have got some stuff we need to work on. Just – er – just us two.”

The teenagers frowned.

“What is it?” asked Hawk. “Some kind of secret new move?”

“Paperwork”, Daniel replied quickly. “Although if you really want to stay and help out-”

Sam, Miguel and Hawk all made noises of protest, muttering vaguely about needing to get home. Sam gave Daniel a quick hug while Miguel and Hawk chorused “See you later, Sensei” at Johnny before all three of them joined the other students as they trooped out of the yard.

Robby smiled tightly at them as he passed. He’d shown up a few days prior and stood at the back of the class, joining in with kata but abstaining from sparring. He hadn’t talked to Johnny or Daniel yet, but it was a start. 

Then it was just the two of them. Johnny stared down at his feet, scuffing his shoes against the grass, before raising his eyes to look at Daniel.

Daniel’s tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. “You hungry?” he asked.

Johnny took in Daniel’s appearance, skin flushed and hair mussed from training. _Not for food._

“Ah, no, I’m good. But if you wanna go get something for yourself-”

“No”, said Daniel. “I just – I just want to get on with this. Did you bring it?”

Johnny nodded, and together they walked inside. Daniel gestured around the dojo. “I’ll get changed in here. You take the office.”

“Alright”, agreed Johnny, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He walked into the next room and snagged a bottle of Banquet from the refrigerator before opening up his gym bag. He pulled out the black uniform, freshly washed and neatly folded.

 _“It’s important it looked how it did then”,_ Daniel had said. “ _Don’t show up with it all smelly and crumpled.”_

The plan had appeared to make something resembling sense when they were drunk. Johnny, remembering Ali’s words ( _“Sometimes it’s good to visit the past to know where you are now”_ ) had agreed to it, but sober (or at least as sober as Johnny ever was) the idea seemed more than a little bat-shit crazy. But if it had even the slightest chance of helping them process their feelings for one another he was willing to give it a shot. Besides, Johnny had always felt most clear headed in the midst of a fight; adrenaline singing through his veins, blood pumping, everything appearing just that little bit sharper and brighter.

He pulled off his workout clothes and sneakers and held up the black gi pants, wondering if he was even going to be able to get them past his thighs. He pulled them on very slowly, just about managing to get them all the way up without busting a seam, and then leaned down at an awkward angle to grab the rest of his uniform. He put on the top (was it really a good idea to be showing so much chest around someone who was madly in lust with him? Probably not), tied the belt and walked stiffly into the dojo.

Daniel was standing on the opposite side of the room, fiddling with his sleeves.

“You haven’t even changed yet!” Johnny protested, gesturing towards him.

“What? I have!”, Daniel replied, pointing towards an identical heap of white cloth on the floor.

Johnny shook his head. “Of course it still fits you.” He walked towards Daniel, trying not to bend his knees too much. Daniel just stared at him.

“Jesus, Johnny. How did you even get that on?”

Johnny shrugged, still moving robot-like across the room until he was in front of Daniel. Close up Johnny could see that Daniel’s gi was not quite identical to the one he’d worn in class; it was slightly more worn, frayed around the edges, and it was also quite snug. His hand crept out and he touched Daniel’s chest (fully covered unlike Johnny’s, no exposed nipples in sight), and let his fingers glide down the fabric, coming to rest low on Daniel’s stomach, skimming the softness there.

Daniel shifted, but didn’t pull away. “Why do you always touch me there?”, he asked.

Johnny felt a smile pulling at his lips. “Only place you’re not perfect, LaRusso.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m perfect?”

“Well you’ve spent enough money tying to still look like you did in high school”, replied Johnny, gesturing with his free hand to Daniel’s carefully dyed hair and moisturiser-softened skin.

Daniel scowled, but then his eyes drifted down to Johnny’s hand, still resting on his stomach. “So it’s my imperfections that you like, Johnny?”

“Maybe”, Johnny said. He thought back to the night of the pink shirt, of the brief glimpse of Daniel’s bare torso. He would only have to move his fingers a little to the left to reach Daniel’s gi belt; one tug and the top would fall open, exposing Daniel’s body, just like opening a present on Christmas Day. Instead he stepped back, arms dropping to his sides.

Daniel cleared his throat. “You remember your moves, Johnny?”

Johnny shrugged. “Yeah, I think so”. ( _Of course_ he remembered them; that fight was part of him and always would be, whether he wanted it to be or not.)

“Just go easy on my knee this time, yeah?” asked Daniel.

“Ditto, but for my face”, countered Johnny.

They got into position and Johnny bowed, deep and deliberate, locking eyes with Daniel as the smaller man mirrored him. Then they straightened up, getting into fighting stances, and began.

Johnny lunged forward with a jump kick and heard a tearing sound as the too-tight material of his gi pants gave way. “Oh shit”, he muttered.

Daniel sidestepped Johnny’s leg, avoiding contact, “You alright there?” he asked, inclining his head towards Johnny’s crotch.

“I’m fine”, Johnny replied, feeling his cheeks redden. He dived straight back into the fight with a flurry of kicks and Daniel landed a blow to the chest ( _“one point LaRusso”_ ), his knuckles skimming over bare flesh. Daniel went in for a punch and Johnny pushed him to the ground, hand lingering for a second on Daniel’s chest before Daniel flipped himself up (not quite as gracefully as the last time, Johnny noted a little smugly) and they circled each other, panting heavily, before Johnny kicked out and Daniel went low, pulling Johnny down with him and tapping him on the back (“ _That’s two for LaRusso_ ”), and they both lay there for a moment, legs tangled together (those _legs_ , what Johnny wouldn’t do to stay wrapped in them), before they clambered up, parting reluctantly, getting ready to face off again.

“You need a time out, Johnny?” Daniel asked lightly, but there was an edge to his voice and his body was braced, ready for attack.

“I’m good. Didn’t bust my nose this time, LaRusso.”

Daniel nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and suddenly it was as if it was 1984 again and they were in the All Valley Sports Arena, the crowd roaring around them and Kreese standing to the side, arms crossed, confident that Johnny would obey him no matter what.

_“Sweep the leg.”_

_“You have a problem with that?”_

_“No Sensei.”_

_“No mercy.”_

Johnny’s leg went up, his body moving by itself as though he had no control over it, like a puppet on a string. Daniel tensed, waiting for the inevitable blow to his own leg, and Johnny wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised when it never came. Instead the kick struck Daniel’s chest, a _fair_ kick, not targeting a known weakness, and the smaller man fell back onto his ass, blinking in surprise. They stared at each other for a moment, panting heavily, and then Daniel’s face split into a grin before he got up again, and Johnny felt his own lips pull into a smile as they continued.

Johnny fought the rest of the fight with his own moves, every kick and punch shredding the material of his gi a little bit more, and he found that he felt lighter with every ripped seam as if shedding a too tight skin that he hadn’t realised he was still wearing. 

_“I won’t let you down, Sensei, I swear it. I’ll never, ever let you down.”_

_“You’re nothing, you lost, you’re a loser”._

_“I did warn you about this. I told you not to show weakness.”_

_“I will never let my students lose. Even if they have to learn the hard way. One day you’ll thank me for this, Johnny.”_

_Rip_

_Tear_

_Pull_

_Break_

Johnny kept his eyes trained on Daniel as they sparred, on the man who Johnny had blamed for so many things that were never his fault, weren’t Johnny’s fault either, but instead were entirely the fault of someone who had seen Johnny as an impressionable young kid and decided to warp him into a solider.

Johnny didn’t grab Daniel’s leg, didn’t ram his elbow into the back of his knee. Instead they danced around each other, Johnny’s cheeks aching from the smile that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his face, and then Daniel raised two arms and a leg, preparing for the crane kick. There was a moment of stillness and Johnny stared at the person in front of him; this tiny, forceful creature who had crashed back into his life after thirty odd years, and he felt that same swooping sensation in his stomach that he had that night at the beach. Then Daniel’s leg flew out, or at least it almost did; Daniel’s gi pants pulled tight around thighs that were just a little thicker than when he was a teenager, and as the material restricted his movements Daniel’s eyes went wide and he fell over backwards, landing on his ass.

Johnny felt something rise up his throat and into his mouth (for a second he thought he was going to barf all over Daniel’s precious gi, which would have kept him amused for weeks after even if he did have to pay the dry cleaning bill), but instead what came out was a snigger followed by a chuckle, and before he knew it Johnny’s body was wracked with laughter and he dropped to his knees next to Daniel, chest heaving. For a moment Daniel stared at him as if he was mad, but then Daniel’s own shoulders started to shake and soon they were both laughing uncontrollably. Johnny felt that lightness again, both wonderful and dizzying (“the unbearable lightness of being Johnny Lawrence”, Daniel said, years later, when Johnny tried to recall the feeling. Johnny just rolled his eyes and threw his bottle cap at Daniel, grinning when it landed in the other man’s greying hair).

When they finally stopped, guffaws subsiding into giggles that eventually petered out into silence, Johnny felt limp but happy, as if all the tension had been drained from his body. He looked at Daniel sat on the floor before him, sweaty and out of breath but with his white gi still pristine and perfectly intact while Johnny’s black one hung off him in tatters (and if that wasn’t a perfect representation of their relationship then Johnny didn’t know what was). He shuffled forward and raised a hand to Daniel’s face, thumb rubbing against a soft cheek where just the slightest hint of stubble had appeared. 

“Johnny”, Daniel murmured, leaning into the touch.

“Daniel”, whispered Johnny, the name unfamiliar on his lips, and they locked eyes before closing the distance between them and pressing their mouths together.

Johnny had never really understood the act of kissing as something in and of itself before; for him it had always been a means to an end, and that end was usually sex or at least a good grope (Dutch had taught him that; always try to put a hand on a girl’s boob while making out), and he had imagined it would be like that with Daniel; a desperate, frantic mashing together of lips and teeth as they ripped each other’s clothes off. But although Johnny could feel lust coiling in his belly the kiss was nothing like that at all; it was slow and sweet, Daniel’s soft lips moving gently against his, his mouth warm and inviting. It was somehow both too much and not enough, and Johnny didn’t know if it was the first kiss or the last, the beginning of something or the end.

Eventually they broke for air but stayed close, breath mingling, foreheads pressed together.

“It’s getting late”, Johnny said, pulling back and nodding towards the slight gap in the screen doors where a sliver of inky black sky was visible. He gestured between them. “We should – ah – we should probably get changed”.

“Yeah”, Daniel replied, glancing at Johnny’s ruined gi. “We should.”

But neither of them moved, and Johnny found himself wondering what would happen if they just stayed there forever, curled around each other in that little house (he could get Bobby to send food parcels). But his legs had started to cramp and so he got up reluctantly, holding out a hand to help Daniel to his feet. They smiled at each other for a moment longer before they both nodded in silent agreement and turned away. Johnny started to walk into the office to gather his clothes, but only took a few steps before he turned, drinking in the sight of Daniel’s bare back as he carefully removed and folded up his gi top, muscles shifting. Johnny tore his eyes away and forced himself into the next room, firmly closing the screen door between them. Maybe there would be time in the years to come for him to explore Daniel’s body, maybe not, but whatever happened at least the past was finally behind them while the future stretched out in front, unwritten, a blank page ready to be filled with whatever story they chose for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! *Wipes brow* Annnnd it's done! Hope you all enjoyed it and feel free to come say hi to me on tumblr.


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